


From Within the Shadows

by newdog14



Series: Felix Month 2019 [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Betrayal, Bittersweet Ending, Dark, Death, F/M, Felix Month 2019, Forever, Mafia AU, Mentions of Blood and Torture, Organized Crime, Protect, felinette - Freeform, murder will happen but I won't say of who, there will be angst, villian!Felix, what a fun bunch of prompts I've picked for this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-07-20 15:10:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19994260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newdog14/pseuds/newdog14
Summary: Paris has long been known as the city of love. It is a city with centuries of history, and its sunny streets are filled with beautiful monuments, fragrant gardens, and happy tourists. It’s the sort of city that people flock to, one filled with smiles and laughter and sunshine.It’s the sort of city that makes it easy to forget about its darker side.Félix has never been afforded that luxury.





	1. Villain

**Author's Note:**

> To finish up Félix Month, I decided to write something a bit darker. Make sure you've read the tags before continuing, and know that I've written this with the intention of causing you some pain.

Paris has long been known as the city of love. It is a city with centuries of history, and its sunny streets are filled with beautiful monuments, fragrant gardens, and happy tourists. It’s the sort of city that people flock to, one filled with smiles and laughter and sunshine.

It’s the sort of city that makes it easy to forget about its darker side.

Paris is beautiful, yes, but it’s dangerous too. It is a city built on top of the dead, and no amount of flowers or sunshine can erase the catacombs that lie beneath the city’s streets. Similarly, no amount of cheery tourists or feats of architecture could overpower Paris’ seedy underbelly. 

As the son of Paris’ most dangerous crime lord, no one knew this better than Félix Agreste. His entire life had been preparing to one day take over for his father. Félix had read countless books on strategy, attended endless meetings as a silent spectator, spent years gaining the respect of men twice his age. By the age of seven, Félix had perfectly mastered his poker face, and was just as unreadable as his father. By ten he knew all the ins and outs of firing and caring for a gun, and even had his own. At age thirteen, he used that gun to kill a man for the first time, and at sixteen he’d mastered the art of torture. 

Félix had never doubted that he would follow in his father’s footsteps, had never even dreamed of doing otherwise. But at age twenty-two, standing in the April rain on that Tuesday afternoon, watching as his father’s coffin was lowered into the ground, Félix wasn’t sure how to handle having the position handed to him so soon. He felt numb.

It wasn’t that he was upset about his father’s death. Gabriel Agreste had been cruel and cold; he would not be missed by anyone who knew him, and least of all by Félix. But the man’s sudden death had created a power vacuum in the world of crime, and Félix was meant to fill it. He _had_ to fill it, or else he’d end up dead too.

Félix kept his face fixed in a frown as he watched the mourners add handfuls of dirt to the grave. In the public eye, Gabriel had been a reclusive fashion designer who had been one of several victims caught in the crossfire of a shootout, and hundreds of Parisians had come out to honor him. The police suspected there was more to it, but they could prove nothing, and Félix had used his political sway make sure the case was wrapped up quickly. Only a handful of the attendees knew what sort of man Gabriel had truly been, each marked by their stoic faces and dry eyes.

A camera flash caught his eye, and he turned to glare at the paparazzo who’d taken the photo. The rat-faced man paled under Félix’s steely gaze, before melting into the crowd and fleeing the young man’s sight.

“Nathalie, have that man taken care of, immediately.”

“Of course, Mr. Agreste.” Félix’s scowl only deepened. He couldn’t change it, but he hated hearing her address him the same way she’d addressed his father. He’d briefly entertained the thought of choosing someone else to serve as his right hand, but the woman was simply too damn competent to demote.

Félix remained silent for the rest of the ceremony, wordless turning away anyone who looked like they might try offering him condolences with a sharp glare. He had no patience for the mourners that had flocked to honor his father, nor did he care to meet their expectations of a distraught son in need of a shoulder to cry on. Such a display would only be seen as weakness by his enemies, and he couldn’t afford to give them any such openings.

The rest of the funeral went by slowly, but uneventfully, and Félix was able to leave the public eye before the weather turned from an unpleasant drizzle to a full on downpour. He would have to make a few other appearances in order to appease the public, but those could wait until tomorrow, For now, he had a far more important meeting to attend.

* * *

Paris’ criminal underworld was large and diverse, but the most powerful figures always came from the same families that had been running the city for decades. The Agreste’s were the wealthiest, the best hidden, and under Gabriel, the most cut throat. No one had ever dared to cross Félix’s father, but if he wanted that same respect and fear for himself, he would need to earn it.

Meetings between the major crime families didn’t occur on a regular schedule, but it was tradition for the heads of the families to meet whenever something major happened in the city. Since his father had been killed, the meeting was pushed back until after the funeral. Six hours after the funeral, to be precise. Not a very long mourning period, but it wasn’t as though Félix was struggling to come to terms with his father’s demise. 

He’d opened a bottle of champagne when he got the news.

Félix and Nathalie arrived at the townhouse ten minutes early, which meant that they were precisely on time. The Tsurugi family was hosting, which meant that tardiness was not an option. At least, it wasn’t an option for him. He knew that no power on Earth could make Anarka Couffaine arrive when asked to.

Kagami answered the door when he knocked, her face a perfect mask of indifference that could rival his own in a lack of expression. “Agreste.”

“Tsurugi,” Félix returned. She stepped aside to let them enter, then locked the door behind them.

“My mother is waiting in the dining room, first door on the left,” Kagami said, leaning back against the wall with her arms crossed. She looked entirely at ease, but Félix could see the katana resting in the umbrella stand next to her, and he knew that the Tsurugi heir could be ready to fight in seconds if she needed to be. She would join the meeting after the others arrived.

Madam Tsurugi was seated at the head of a long wooden table, sipping tea while she waited for the others to join her. To an outsider, Tomoe Tsurugi would appear to be an old, fragile, blind woman. In reality, she was quite possibly the most dangerous woman in all of Paris, and had been dominating the drug trade for decades. 

She inclined her head in greeting, and Félix took his seat without a word. The others arrived shortly after, Valentino Rossi, Anarka Couffain, Armand D’Argencourt, Audrey Bourgeois. Together they were the most powerful group in Paris, and the most dangerous. They controlled the whole of the city, from politics to law enforcement to street crime; nothing happened in Paris without their say so.

“Shall we begin?” Madam Tsurugi said, breaking the silence. “We have quite a bit of business to discuss.”

And so the meeting began, without so much as a word spent on their recently departed partner. Félix was glad that no one mentioned Gabriel, it meant that they were going to accept him as the new head of the family. He'd spent his entire life preparing for this day. He could only hope it would be enough.


	2. Protect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late, and I apologize, but in my defense, I started listening to Welcome to Night Vale and got distracted. Enjoy more villainy kids!

It didn’t take Félix very long to adjust to being in charge of his father’s more illicit operations. His father had been slowly giving him more responsibilities within their network since he had turned 18, and with Nathalie to fill him in on what he hadn’t had a hand in before, it was a very smooth transition of power.

Of course, taking over his father’s legal operations was proving to be a much greater challenge. Félix had hoped that as CEO, he would be able to confine himself to the business side of things, but without his father’s creations their design team was shorthanded, and unless he could find a new head designer within the next month, Agreste Fashion wasn’t going to have a spring collection. The company could survive that hit, of course, but without the spike in clothing sales he wouldn’t have a way to cover up the cash he was making under the table.

So instead of investigating to see who had had the balls to put a hit out on his father, Félix was now stuck interviewing hopeful would be designers looking to make their big break. He did know enough about fashion to know the difference between good and bad designs, though for some reason none of his applicants seemed to think he had enough experience for that much. 

He was half way through the day and already had a migraine when _she_ turned up. The bane of his existence, Chloé Bourgeois. She was spoiled, petty, entitled, and the daughter of one of his most important business associates, which meant that he had to restrain himself from arranging an abrupt, nasty end for her. 

“Félix! It’s been far too long since we’ve seen each other,” Chloé said, giving him an over exaggerated pout as she barged into his office. A small, dark haired girl followed her in, presumably her newest personal assistant. Félix had never seen her with the same assistant twice, but he wasn’t sure if that was because Chloé had a hair trigger temper, or if had more to do with the fact that he avoided her whenever possible. “Where have you been recently?”

“Running a company,” Félix said, leaving the reminder of his father’s death unsaid. Not that he expected Chloé to take the hint. “What do you want, Ms. Bourgeois?”

“Actually, I’m here about what _you_ want,” Chloé said, grinning smugly. “I heard you needed a new head designer, so I’m here to say you can call off the search.”

“Is that so?” Félix said, keeping his face carefully blank of the skepticism he felt inside. “And who should I be hiring then?”

Chloé rolled her eyes with a scoff. “ _Me_ , obviously.”

A lesser man would not have been able to keep a straight face at that. “I wasn’t aware you designed.”

“Of course I do!” Chloé said, flipping her hair in indignation. “You don’t get to be as fabulous as I am without knowing a thing or two about fashion design.”

The personal assistant let out a silent groan from behind her boss. Félix’s headache was getting worse by the second. “Do you have a portfolio?”

“What?” Chloé scoffed.

“A _portfolio_ ,” Félix repeated, picking up a copy of a rejected applicant’s own work as an example. “You know, a collection of what your work looks like?”

Chloé glared at the folder, quickly flipping through it with a sneer, then tossing it over her shoulder and sending papers everywhere. Félix bit back a sigh. “I know what it is! I just don’t see why you feel you need one from me.”

“Ms. Bourgeois, until today I wasn’t even aware that you were a designer,” Félix said, trying to keep his condescension to a minimum. “I can’t just hire you without any knowledge of your style or skill level.”

Chloé made a face like she’d been asked to suck a lemon. Félix kept his face impassive, and after a minor staring contest Chloé stamped her foot in frustration. “Fine! I’ll make you a stupid portfolio. Just know that you’re wasting valuable time that could have been spent saving this company.”

Félix pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ease his quickly worsening headache. “I’ll keep that in mind, Ms. Bourgeois. Now, if you don’t mind, I have another interview in half an hour, and I need to prepare.”

“Well you should cancel it. You’re never going to find someone more fashionable than me. You’re just wasting your time,” Chloé said, half turning to go, than pausing and turning to her assistant instead. “Speaking of wasting time, give Félix the list of specifications for my office and work space. I’ll expect every request to be met before I start.”

Chloé walked to the door, while her assistant reached into her bag while taking a step toward Félix. As she moved, she slipped on one of the papers Chloé had scattered, and she crashed to the floor with a yelp, the contents of her bag spilling across the office. 

Chloé groaned. “Ugh! Can’t you do anything right? You’re ridiculous, _utterly_ ridiculous.”

Chloé stormed out of the office, and Félix found that his sigh of relief was mirrored by the young woman who sifting through the mess of papers on the floor. Félix turned back to his computer, reaching for his coffee cup only to find it empty. _Pity._

Félix stood, fully intent on getting a refill, but paused when his foot brushed an open notebook. The drawings within peaked his interest, and he picked up the book and began to flip through the designs. There were dozens of outfits and accessories, spanning every style he knew of and a few that he didn’t.

He was pulled away from the sketches by a strangled yelp, and looked up to meet bright blue eyes that were torn between abject terror and cautious hope. Félix considered the young woman carefully. “Are these yours?”

“Er, y-yes, sir,” she said, eyes moving rapidly between his face and book in his hands. “I, er, never know when I might get inspired, so I always keep my sketchbook on me.”

Félix considered her for a moment, then turned back to the book. “What led you to working for Ms. Bourgeois?”

“Oh, er, well, I thought, maybe I could make some contacts in the fashion industry, and I’ve got loans to pay off,” she said, fidgeting nervously, but seeming to gain confidence as she realized that he liked her work.

“You have a degree?” Félix said, eyes catching on a sketch of a suit, sharp and angular, and made more so by the grayscale coloring of the design.

“Yes, in fashion design, from the Paris College of Arts,” she said, and when he met her eyes again the hope was more solid. Félix turned back to the book, flipping through a few more sketches. The sheer creativity that had gone into this book was on a level he hadn’t seen from any of the portfolios he’d been shown since beginning his search, and there were designs for every season, ranging from casual to formal to swimwear. Félix finally handed the book back to the young woman.

“Would you like a new job, miss?” Félix asked, watching her face shift from hope to disbelief to excitement. It had been awhile since he’d met someone so outwardly expressive. “I’ve been looking for a new head designer, and I after seeing your work, I’d like it to be you.”

“R-really? You’re serious?” She seemed caught in disbelief, her eyes wide but so full of excitement.

“I always am,” Félix said. The smile she gave him was bright and beautiful, and he couldn’t think of another time he’d ever seen such an earnest expression on someone’s face. “So, will you take the position?”

“Y-yes!” She said, hopping up in her excitement, then hesitated and rushed to regain some level of composure. “Er, I mean, I would be honored. I won’t let you down.”

“Good. I look forward to working with you, Miss…?” Félix held out his hand as he trailed off, and she took it without hesitating.

“Dupain-Cheng. Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said, smiling brightly as she shook his hand. Félix shook her hand without reacting, and called in his secretary to take her to HR to fill out the paperwork. Marinette left his office completely oblivious to the turmoil she’d left behind her.

Félix knew that name. And now that he knew who she was, he wondered how he hadn’t seen it before, because her eyes were glaringly familiar to him now. Félix ran a hand through his hair, thinking over the best way to handle this situation, then firmly telling himself that there was no situation to handle, and there never would be, not unless he made one. 

He refilled his coffee mug, and if he’d topped it off with whiskey no one else needed to know. He didn’t need to be worried about Marinette, and he could easily avoid her until he really believed it.

* * *

With things at the company settled, Félix could return his focus to more important matters. As crucial as keeping up appearances with the general public was, he had far more dangerous work to attend to. He may have been accepted by his enemies, and the families were playing nice for now, but that didn’t mean they respected him.

Félix had never cared for excessive cruelty, but he was starting to see why his father had favored it. His father had been successful because he punished failure ruthlessly, and where monetary gain failed to inspire his subordinates, abject terror filled the gaps in their motivation. Everyone in the business knew of Gabriel’s cruelty, of the punishments his own people suffered when their performances were found to be lacking, and that knowledge made his business partners reluctant to cross him.

Félix was young, and relatively unknown, and while no one had made a move against him _yet_ , he knew it was only a matter of time before someone decided to test him. For the first few months, the status quo remained unchallenged. Félix didn’t wait idly for that challenge to come though, and he kept busy with tightening his organizations procedures, and with investigating the hit that had been placed on his father. 

The culprit surprised him only because he wasn’t sure what the motivation of the hit had been, but he intended to find out. He was still in the midst of working out a proper reason to arrange a visit when he received an invitation to discuss a mutually beneficial business proposal. Félix wasn’t keen on the thought of meeting with his father’s killer on his own turf, but declining the meeting could tip his hand, and it _was_ in a public location, which was safer than he would have expected.

Still, he was on edge as entered La Tana di Volpe with Nathalie and a few guards. The pistol concealed beneath his suit jacket was largely for show, but even in a crowded nightclub, the danger was very real.

“Mr. Agreste, it’s so good to see you!”

“A pleasure as always, Ms. Rossi.” Félix had met Lila Rossi several times before, and he’d never cared for her sugar sweet smiles and honeyed words. She put on a good façade, but that’s all it was, and Félix had never much cared for the girl.

“My father is waiting for you upstairs,” she said, nodding to a balcony that overlooked the dance floor and taking his arm. “I can escort you to him, but my father would prefer your associates to remain down here. He’s making a rather sensitive offer, I’m sure you understand. _I_ don’t even know the details of it yet.”

Félix highly doubted that. “Of course, Ms. Rossi. Lead on.”

She pulled him through the crowd with a smile, keeping close enough that he could smell her perfume. It wasn’t what he would consider pleasant by any means, but he endured her clinginess for the sake of diplomacy. It was always easier to get what he wanted from people when they thought he liked them.

Lila led him past a bouncer and up a staircase, then down a hall that connected several secluded balconies. At the end of the hall was a door that only stood out from the others because of the two bouncers standing outside of it. Lila smiled as they stopped, letting go of his arm but not stepping out of his space. 

“If you’d be so kind as to leave any weapons out here,” she whispered, smiling seductively. Félix didn’t roll his eyes at her antics, but he did pull out his gun and handed it over to one of the bouncers. Lila smoothed her hands over his jacket, putting on a good show of pretending to be flirting instead of patting him down. 

Once she finished, she finally stepped back, and one of the bouncers knocked sharply on the door before she opened it. Félix wasted no time in entering, taking in the cozy room where Valentino Rossi was waiting for him. 

“Buonasera, Félix,” he said, grinning wide and taking Félix hand in greeting. “Please, have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”

“Scotch, thank you,” Félix said, taking in the view of the club as his host poured two glasses. Nathalie and his guards were seated at a table across the room, with a clear view of the balcony. “I must say, this is quite an impressive club.”

“Why thank you! My family has managed La Tana di Volpe since coming to Paris. It is a special place,” Valentino said, relaxing into his own chair. “But of course, I did not invite you here for smalltalk.”

“Straight to business then, I appreciate that,” Félix said. He hated nothing more than smalltalk. “So, what is this business proposal?”

“A good one, I assure you,” Valentino said, taking a sip of his own drink before leaning forward. “Your father and I were discussing an arrangement prior to his passing, but you are welcome to set your own terms, of course.”

“What sort of arrangement did you have in mind?” Félix asked. His father hadn’t mentioned anything, but he was a difficult man to negotiate with. If things hadn’t been going Valentino’s way, that could be reason enough to bump off his father. 

“An alliance. A real one, not just the niceties we all do now,” Valentino said. “I have a daughter your age, if we were to join our families, combine our territories, we’d be the most powerful men in France.”

Félix was _already_ the most powerful man in France, but he put on a show of looking thoughtful. “The other families might take issue with an expansion like that. D’Argencourt in particular might see that as being an aggressive move, since he’d be surrounded by us on three sides.”

Valentino laughed. “Your father brought up the same concern. But really, you Agrestes worry too much. The others will have plenty of time to come to terms with the match, and I don’t think they’ll be needing much. No one was upset when Audrey married the mayor, were they?”

“I suppose,” Félix conceded, even though the two situations were entirely different. Audrey hadn’t gained any new territory from marrying the mayor, only a little extra political sway. In another city, marrying the mayor might have come with quite a bit of power and clout, but in Paris corrupt officials were a dime a dozen, and those that couldn’t be bought or threatened could be killed. Not to mention nearly everything the mayor did to help Audrey ended up helping all of them.

“You’re still hesitant, though,” Valentino said, seeming unsurprised. “I understand, your father needed time to think it over as well, and there are many details to consider. You should know, though, that he _had_ agreed to the proposition, before the unfortunate incident that took his life.”

“Did he now?” Félix said, “And here I thought you’d had him killed because he refused you.”

Valentino froze, startled and caught off guard, just as Félix had intended. The older man studied him for a moment, then sighed and leaned back with a grin. “You figured that out, then? You always were a sharp one.”

Félix decided not to tell him how easy it had been to discover Valentino’s involvement. “The circumstances of my father’s death are rather important to me. Particularly because I wasn’t sure if I might be in danger as well.”

“Of course not, Félix,” Valentino said, his grin taking on a dangerous edge. “Gabriel did more than refuse me. He insulted my daughter, and I don’t take that sort of thing lightly.”

“I apologize on his behalf, then,” Félix said.

“I appreciate that,” Valentino said. “But you don’t need to be worried, regardless. I’m not one to judge on man by the faults of his father, and his choices don’t need to affect yours.”

Félix twisted his watch thoughtfully, hearing the threat in those words. “Well, you’ve given me quite a bit to think about.”

“Still hesitating?” Valentino stood as he spoke, then moved forward to overlook the club. Félix finally reached for his glass, taking a quick sip before setting it next to Valentino’s. “I’m glad I’ve been keeping Lila in the dark about all this, otherwise she might start to think less of herself.”

“My hesitance isn’t because I find anything to be lacking with her,” Félix said, the lie flowing smoothly off his tongue. “But I haven’t thought much about the idea of marriage. I never thought I’d have the time for it, really. This also isn’t what I had expected from this meeting, so I’m afraid I’m a bit caught off guard by your offer.”

“I understand,” Valentino said, his tone brightening. “Take a bit of time to think things over, perhaps even to become better acquainted with Lila, if it suits you.”

“I’ll be in touch soon,” Félix said, rising to shake Valentino’s hand once more before leaving the room. He reclaimed his gun, tucking it away before making his way downstairs. Nathalie and his men were sitting at the same table he’d spotted them at earlier, though Lila had joined them. He gestured for them to come with him, and he held back a sigh when Lila followed them over.

“Leaving so soon?” Lila asked, lightly pouting.

“Afraid I’m not much for clubbing,” Félix said, “But it was a pleasure to see you again, Ms. Rossi, as always.”

Félix left the club, quite pleased with how the evening had gone. “Nathalie, what’s the time?”

“Half past eleven, sir,” she said as she opened the car door. Félix hummed in response. It would take about half an hour for the poison to take effect, and since the police’s medical examiner had been on the Agreste payroll since he’d started, Félix had no doubt that Valentino’s death would be ruled a heart attack.

“Thank you, Nathalie,” Félix said. “Did Father tell you that Rossi was attempting to arrange for me to marry his daughter?”

“He did not,” Nathalie said. “Is that what he asked you here for?”

“Yes, apparently that’s what he killed Father over,” Félix said. “I suppose he was only trying to protect his interests, and I hope Lila will understand why I felt the need to do the same.”

“I’m certain that she won’t,” Nathalie said, the slightest smirk on her face.

“Yes, I thought as much,” Félix said. “Make sure you send the Medical Examiner a nice bonus.”

“Of course, sir,” Nathalie said.


	3. Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took ages and I apologize. I kept wanting to add extra scenes and then getting distracted. This fic has two more chapters for me to sort out, but we're in the home stretch now! Though I've got no idea how long it'll take me to get everything written, so sorry in advance.

Félix had never really cared about anyone; he’d never really known anyone _worth_ caring about. Some people had purposes to serve, but Félix had never known anyone that he would deem to be irreplaceable. But that was before he’d met _her_.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was unlike anyone Félix had ever met. She was bright and creative and unendingly kind, even on his worst days. She was always happy to see him, and no matter how angry he was, he couldn’t bring himself to snap at her the way he would with anyone else. His treatment of her may have started because of guilt, but the longer he worked with the girl, the more he genuinely liked her.

If she were anyone else, their relationship would have been rocky at best. Félix had never been one for socializing, and his conversations tended to remain polite but impersonal. Starting conversations with Marinette seemed even more difficult though, because he couldn’t look at her without remembering the history between them that she could never know. Most people would have given up on trying to engage him, but not her.

Marinette was clever, and creative, and had endless ideas for new fashion lines. Félix found himself looking forward to their meetings, looking forward to seeing someone who looked forward to seeing _him._ He ended up being far more involved in Agreste Fashion than he had ever intended to be, and by the time their spring collection had been completed he’d grown rather accustomed to seeing Marinette every day.

It was just after the collection had gone public, when Marinette was glowing with happiness from the positive reception her work had received, that Félix realized he might be in a bit over his head. He was informing her of the seven requests that had come in so far for custom dresses and outfits designed by “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, fashion’s biggest new influencer,” as she’d been referred to in Vogue.

Marinette was blushing, proud and excited and modest all at once, and he couldn’t stop staring at her. Her smile was infectious, and her happiness made him eager to celebrate with her; success was a very good luck on Marinette, particularly because she didn’t allow it to go to her head. “I’m flattered, but they should know I wasn’t the only one working on that collection. There’s a whole team of people who helped work on everything.”

“Maybe, but it was all your vision,” Félix said, “You know you’ve completely changed the direction of the brand, right? And put the company in a new light. Agreste was an elitist brand before, and you made it accessible to everyone. That’s something no one on your team would ever have thought to do on their own.”

“T-thank you, Félix,” she said, blushing a shade darker. Félix startled at hearing her use his first name, and her eyes widened as she realized the slip. “Er, I mean Mr. Agreste, I’m sorry, I just—”

“It’s okay, Marinette,” he said, cutting off her rambling. “I don’t mind if you address me by my first name.”

“O-okay,” she said, her smile small and fond. “Well, thank you for giving me this opportunity, Félix. This is all so amazing, and I never would have been able to reach such a wide audience without your help.”

Félix shook his head. “I doubt that very much. You’re incredibly talented, Marinette, and I genuinely think you could have gotten here on your own. It would have just taken you a little bit longer.”

With the collection out and everyone clamoring to meet Marinette, it just made _sense_ to invite her to accompany him to all the different galas and events he was being asked to show up to. He didn’t even consider that such activities might be considered date-like until he saw her dressed up that first night. Marinette always looked nice, given her profession, but it was the sort of nice that didn’t take much effort, because she was too busy to spend hours on her appearance every day. 

But when he picked her up for the gala at the Louvre, when he saw her dressed to the nines in a pink evening gown that he had no doubt she had designed and made all on her own, his mind short circuited as his definition of beautiful rewrote itself. “You look amazing, Marinette.”

“Thank you, Félix,” she said, ducking her head to hide her blush. “You look really nice too.”

That night was the first time their conversations weren’t centered entirely on work, which was nice because it meant he got to learn more about what Marinette did in her downtime, but it also made the conversation a bit more challenging, because Félix really didn’t do much of anything outside of work and his criminal activities. Apparently he needed a hobby.

That night was the first of many events that they attended together, and by the time he got around to asking her to dinner, just the two of them, he was confident enough in his feelings that he didn’t even hesitate to confirm that yes, he meant on a date.

Marinette didn’t hesitate to accept, either. 

* * *

The problem with murdering someone that you work with is that you will also have to work with their _replacement_ , which in this case meant Lila Rossi. She was insufferable, and the only good thing about it was that he wasn’t the only one who thought so. Watching Lila’s innocent act slowly grate on the older gang leaders without Lila realizing was immensely entertaining. He wasn’t sure who was going to snap first, though he was betting on either Audrey or Anarka, but he knew that Lila’s harmless victim act would be coming back to bite her soon. 

Three months after Valentino’s death, Lila turned up in his office at Agreste Fashion, looking more smug than she had any right to be. He would have to have a talk with his secretary about allowing visitors into his office without an appointment. Félix was tempted to call for security and have Lila thrown out, but he didn’t know what would make her so confident about turning up uninvited to his office, and he wasn’t going to do anything rash until he found out. 

“Ms. Rossi, to what do I owe this surprise visit?” 

Her expression practically screamed that she knew something he didn’t, or at least she thought she did, but he remained impassive as he waited for her to speak. “I have a proposal for you, Félix, one that will benefit us both quite a bit, _and_ send a message that our youth doesn’t make us easy targets.”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear whatever her proposal was. “I wasn’t aware that anyone thought of us that way.”

Lila’s eyes widened as she nodded solemnly, looking sad and small. He wondered how stupid she thought he was, if she thought he would fall for her tricks. “Oh, I’m afraid they do. I overheard Tomoe and Audrey talking about taking us out before we grew stronger. We’ll have to act fast if we want to survive.”

Félix said nothing, but gestured for her to continue. Lila’s words were obvious lies to anyone who paid attention, which _she_ apparently wasn’t, if she didn’t know about Tomoe’s honor code. Unlike certain other families, the Tsurugi’s preferred to play without stooping to lies and manipulations to take down their enemies. 

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” Lila said, clearly under the impression that Félix was taking her at her word. He might not have been the easiest person to read, but he didn’t see how she could be so oblivious to his disinterest. “D’Argencourt is weak, and his territory is right between ours. If we work together, we can take him out, and split everything we take between us. We’ll solidify our positions and prove that we aren’t to be messed with, and ensure that we’re strong enough not to be.”

It wasn’t the offer Félix had expected her to make, but he didn’t like it any better than he would have liked a renewed marriage proposal. What she was proposing would start an all out war in the criminal underworld, which would lead to a public outcry for the police to crackdown on crime. Even if they won the fight, and he wasn’t certain that they would, doing business would become much more difficult for everyone.

“That’s quite the proposal, Ms. Rossi,” he said. “Would you mind giving a few days to consider it?”

“Of course, but we’ll need to act soon in order for this to work,” Lila said, trying to look nervous. “If we wait too long, they’ll take us out before we have a chance to strike.”

“I can’t imagine that anyone would challenge us head on,” Félix said, wondering if it would be worth it to try and dissuade Lila from her current course of action.

“No, not head on, but...I think one of them murdered our fathers,” Lila said, eyes wide, as though she were spilling some great secret. “Someone had to arrange the shooting, right? I also had some tests run, and my father didn’t die of a heart attack, he was poisoned.”

Félix made a show of looking surprised. “Do you have any idea who might be responsible?”

“No, but I’m certain it was the same person,” Lila said. “The shooting is a dead end, too well covered, but poisoning my father would have been trickier, and I’m sure we could find the lackey who did it and trace them back to whoever arranged the hit.”

Félix hummed in thought, trying to decide his best course of action, as well as what Lila might already know. His computer dinged, a reminder that he had a prior commitment to keep, one far more important than anything Lila could try to tempt him with. “Well, I’ll need to think over the logistics of your proposal before I can give you an answer, but if you’d like to work together to find the killer, I would be happy to help.”

Félix rose and led the way out of his office, Lila close behind. She was silent until they reached the hall, and Félix stiffened as she invaded his space. “Thank you, Félix. I knew I could count on you.”

“Of course, Ms. Rossi,” he said, very conscious of the audience watching from his secretary’s desk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I have another meeting to get to.”

“I’ll let you go then,” Lila said, grinning as though she was fully aware of the suspicious glare being aimed at her. She sauntered down the hall as though she owned it, and Félix pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

“Félix? Who was that?” He turned to Marinette, and he was relieved that even though she had clearly picked up on Lila’s advances, she wasn’t angry about them. At least, not with him. 

“An uninvited guest,” he answered, offering her his arm. Marinette took it, and though she looked after Lila curiously, she didn’t press for more information. Félix turned to his secretary, who at least had the grace to look guilty. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Agreste, she said that you knew she was coming, and that you had some very important business that couldn’t wait a moment, and—“

“Ms. Lavillant,” he cut off her rambling and she squeaked nervously before falling silent. Marinette squeezed his arm, and he sighed. “I understand, but in the future, please don’t allow her into my office without clearing the visit with me first.”

“Of course, Mr. Agreste. It won’t happen again,” she said, slumping in relief. Marinette smiled at him, and her happiness drowned out the image of his father calling him soft. Here in his civilian life, he could afford to be.

* * *

Félix warned the other families, because it was the only way he could be certain Lila couldn’t drag him down with her. He’d been expecting the anger, but Tomoe Tsurugi’s cold fury had still taken him by surprise, and it struck him as infinitely more dangerous than the more vocal rage expressed by the others.

The Rossi gang abandoned their new leader within hours of the bounty being placed on her head. Félix was a bit unnerved by it, actually, by how little loyalty they had to Lila. If someone ever offered €500,000 for his death, would his people react the same way? He liked to think not, but he wasn’t entirely sure, and it worried him.

Currently, however, Lila was in the wind, and that worried him more. She was reckless, volatile, and she now had nothing left to lose. It was a dangerous combination, especially because if she had any brains at all, she’d know that he was the one responsible for the other families turning on her. He knew that she would retaliate, he just didn’t know when, and that worried him.

He wasn’t exactly surprised when he came home one evening to find that someone had broken in. He’d been carrying a gun since he was a teenager, and he didn’t hesitate to pull it out as he made his way inside. The mansion was dark, save for the light spilling out of his office. He was silent as he crept closer, listening carefully for any signs of movement or life. 

The room was empty, but Lila had torn it apart looking for something. He heard the crunch of glass as he stepped forward, and frowned to see the photo of Marinette on the ground, the frame broken and glass shattered beyond salvaging. He wasn’t sure what the woman had been looking for at first, until he found his father’s ledger sitting out in the open, instead of safely in the safe where he usually kept it.

Keeping a record of the crimes you committed was a dangerous thing, but Gabriel had liked to know exactly who he’d wronged or been wronged by, in case they ever came back. Félix thought it was a bad idea, so he didn’t continue updating it with his own crimes, but he hadn’t seen the harm in keeping his father’s list of crimes. Now, tracing the torn edge where a page had once been, he wondered if he should have simply burned the damn book.

He looked to the dates written on the pages before and after, and felt a stone sink in his stomach. The missing page was from nine years ago, and he knew exactly what crime was detailed on it. It was the most damning thing Lila could have found, really. Perhaps not from a legal standpoint, but she had all the information to destroy the one thing Félix actually cared about now.

His cellphone rang, and after glancing at the caller ID he didn’t hesitate to answer it. “Mari, where are you?I can’t explain right now, but I think you might be in danger.”

“Oh, do you really think so?” 

Félix froze at the smug voice on the other end of the line. “Where is she?”

“So _impatient_ , Félix!” Lila teased. Félix had never wanted to shoot someone so badly in his life. “I just thought it might be nice to have some girl talk. Marinette and I have _so_ much in common, thanks to you.”

“If you hurt her, I swear I’ll—”

“Threaten me now and I promise things will only get worse,” Lila’s voice was cold and dangerous, but Félix did his best to get a handle on his anger.

“What do you _want_ , Rossi?”

“For you to suffer,” Lila snapped. “I hadn’t thought to suspect you before, but you’re the one who poisoned my father, aren’t you? And this bounty on my head, that was you too.”

“Your father only got what was coming to him, or did you really think that I wouldn’t figure out that he was the one who ordered my father killed?” Félix sneered. “And as for the bounty? You did that to yourself, when you decided to try and manipulate and plot against your allies.”

“ _You ratted me out, Agreste,_ ” Lila hissed. “We could have ruled Paris together, if you’d just cooperated. But instead, you took _everything_ from me. Well now I’m going to do the same to you, starting with your little girlfriend.”

“ _Rossi—_ ”

“Addio, Félix.”

The phone clicked off, and Félix struggled to keep his anger from getting out of hand. He didn’t have time for anger just yet, he needed to find Marinette, before Lila could do whatever it was she was planning to do. He took a deep breath to center himself, then pulled up his computer.

He had known since the beginning that his getting involved with Marinette might put her in danger, and he had planned accordingly. Putting a tracker in his girlfriend’s phone was not something he had done lightly, and it had led to several sleepless nights, but he was glad that he’d done it now. He flipped the tracker on remotely, and after a minute of waiting, he knew that Marinette was being held in the warehouse district.

He was going to get her back, and once he did, Lila was going to _pay._

* * *

Marinette couldn’t see anything, when she woke up. There was something rough over her face, her arms were tied behind her, and something tight was around her chest. She didn’t know where she was, or how she’d gotten there, and panic started to rise in her chest. She could just barely hear a woman’s voice, and she focused on it to keep her mind off the fear. Freaking out wouldn’t help anything, and she needed to try and remain calm.

“—but you’re the one who poisoned my father, aren’t you? And this bounty on my head, that was you too.”

The voice fell silent, and Marinette tried to twist in her seat, testing the ropes that held her in place. Her legs were free, but she was definitely tied to a chair, and she didn’t know how to get free.

“ _You ratted me out, Agreste,_ ” The voice hissed, and Marinette thought of Félix. Was someone trying to ransom her to him? “We could have ruled Paris together, if you’d just cooperated. But instead, you took _everything_ from me. Well now I’m going to do the same to you, starting with your little girlfriend.”

Marinette stiffened, confused and very afraid for her own safety.

“Addio, Félix.”

A pair of heels clicked against concrete, and Marinette couldn’t help but thrash as they came closer. The fabric was pulled off her head, and Marinette blinked under the bright industrial lights. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the woman looking down at her, Marinette had seen her at Agreste Fashion less than a week ago. “What do you want with me?”

“Just to share the truth,” she said with a smile. Marinette didn’t really feel put at ease. “My name is Lila, and I’m sorry that we’re meeting under such... _tense_ circumstances.”

Lila moved forward to untie the ropes, and Marinette rubbed her wrists nervously once they were freed. “Why did you kidnap me?”

“Just to talk, and I needed to make sure that we wouldn’t be interrupted,” Lila said, taking a seat in front of Marinette. “There are some things you need to know about Félix Agreste.”

“Such as?” Marinette asked warily. 

“He’s a criminal, for starters,” Lila said. “And this isn’t white collar crime, either, though I’m sure he’s guilty of that too. But he’s also the head of one of Paris’ largest crime rings. He’s killed people, more than you and I will ever know about in total, but there was one name in particular that I thought you’d be interested in.”

Marinette was silent, her mind reeling. She didn’t know how any of this could be true, but why would Lila lie about it? She couldn’t reconcile Lila’s words with the Félix she knew though. He might not have been the _nicest_ person in the world, but a killer? She couldn’t see that. Still...she was curious about what else Lila might say. “Why should I believe you about any of this? You kidnapped me.”

“I know, and I’m very sorry about that, but it was the only way I could ensure that we could talk uninterrupted. Félix would do _anything_ to keep you in the dark about all this,” Lila said. “I know him well enough to know he would never willingly tell you the truth, but you deserve to know it. And the reason _I_ know all of this is because my family runs one of Paris’ other major crime rings. Or at least they used to, before Félix murdered my father and offered a reward for my head.

“Of course, I don’t expect you to just take my word on all of this either,” Lila said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a piece of paper. She held it out, and Marinette hesitated. She didn’t know what that paper would say, but she knew it would be bad. 

“What is this?” Marinette asked, carefully taking the paper.

“ _That_ is Gabriel Agreste’s handwritten account of Félix murdering Tom Dupain,” Lila said.

Marinette suddenly felt very cold, and very much like the powerless teenager she’d been when the police had knocked on her door all those years ago. She wanted Lila to be wrong. She wanted it all to be a lie. But the details on the paper were cold and clinical in their descriptions, and it reminded her all too much of the police report about her father’s death. And she recognized Gabriel’s handwriting, had seen it in the margins of dozens of sketches since she’d come to work at Agreste Fashion.

Marinette thought she might be in shock. The police had never found out who was responsible for her father’s death, they’d written it off as a mugging gone wrong and let the case go cold. She’d always wondered who it had been, had always thought that knowing might grant her some closure. Now she would give anything not to know. She didn’t even realize when she dropped the paper.

“I’m sure this is a lot to take in,” Lila said, giving her a look of pity. “I can’t imagine how you might be feeling right now.”

_Numb. Hurt. Betrayed._

“But Félix knows that you’re with me now, and I expect that he’ll be here soon,” Lila said, reaching behind her and pulling out a gun. Marinette didn’t have it in her to be afraid, her mind was still reeling. When Lila pressed the cold metal into her hands, she took it unthinkingly. “He wouldn’t hesitate to shoot _me_ , but I don’t think he’ll be so quick to hurt _you._ That means that you have an opportunity to stop him from getting away with everything he’s done.”

Marinette didn’t need to ask what Lila meant by that. A door slammed open in another room, and footsteps echoed throughout the warehouse. And then Félix was there, a gun already in his hands.

“How nice of you to join us, Agreste,” Lila said. Félix pointed the gun at her, and she moved to stand behind Marinette as she tutted disapprovingly. “Drop the gun.”

Félix hesitated, and Marinette raised the gun until it was level with his chest. He wasn’t very far away. If she fired, she wouldn’t miss. His eyes widened, but then he was dropping his gun and raising his arms. Her hands shook as she held the gun, but she kept it pointed at him, a warning not to get any closer. 

“Marinette—”

“Is it true?”

“Mari, whatever she told you, she’s trying to turn you against me.”

“Is it _true,_ Félix?”

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes flicking between her and Lila and the paper on the floor. If Lila was telling the truth, he would know exactly what Marinette was asking him. She wanted him not to know, but knew even before he spoke that he did. “...yes. I’m sorry.”

“Poor little Marinette,” Lila said, hardly sounding sorry at all. “Betrayed by the one person you thought you could trust with everything.”

“Shut up, you vile bitch!”

_“Manners_ , Félix,” Lila tutted as she moved closer to her ex-captive.

Marinette felt slim hands curl over her shoulders, and nails as sharp as claws brushed against her skin. “You don’t owe him anything, you know.”

“Get your hands off of her!” Félix growled, but Lila ignored him. 

“He _lied_ to you. Over and over again, starting the moment you first met.”

“Marinette, please, I can explain—”

“Explain?” Marinette asked, her voice growing hysterical, “Explain _what,_ Félix? That the entire time I’ve known you you’ve been secretly running some _criminal empire?_ That all this time we’ve been together, you’ve been hiding the fact that you killed my father?”

“I’m sorry, Marinette. I’m so sorry. If I could go back and change things—"

“But you can’t! You can’t change things, Félix!” Her voice broke into a sob. “Is anything you told me true? Have you ever been honest with me?”

“Marinette, I love you. That will _always_ be true.”

“And why would she believe you?” Lila asked, then turned to whisper in Marinette’s ear. “He’s lied to you so many times now, Mari, he’s very good at it. And he’s hurt so _many_ people.”

“Marinette, don’t listen to her!”

“He’s never going to stop either,” Lila said, moving away from Marinette to collect the gun Félix had dropped. “Not unless _you_ stop him.”

“Marinette, please. You know me.”

“Do I?” Her voice cracked, and her hands were shaking so bad that she wasn’t even really pointing the gun at Félix anymore. She tried to steady her breathing, and focused on aiming the gun properly. 

“Make the world a better place, Marinette,” Lila said, stepping out of the way. “No one’s going to miss him.”

“Mari—”

The gunshot cut Félix off, followed by the wet thump of a body hitting the ground.


End file.
